


That One Time

by thatsoccercoach



Series: Which Door? [29]
Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Family Fluff, toddler tantrums
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 07:07:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14910689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsoccercoach/pseuds/thatsoccercoach
Summary: Everyone has a rough day once in a while.





	That One Time

                                                                  

A day spent with the Murrays was a day well spent as far as Claire Fraser was concerned.

Ian and Jamie, whenever they were together, would talk as if no time had passed at all. She knew that they texted and talked during the week as well but their closeness was plain for all to see as they reunited. On occasion, they’d revert back to their childhood selves, joking and teasing with the maturity levels of twelve year old boys. Ian truly had stepped into the role of brother for Jamie when they were children and he’d never left that spot.

Jenny and Claire, after warming up to each other once more, would talk of their men, their children, then finally themselves. They were such independent women that it was both difficult and necessary to have someone with whom they could share. For both of them, their default mode was to take life head-on, without help or feedback. Confiding in someone was a challenge and yet, they trusted one another and valued the other’s opinion. Early in their lives, both had lost their mothers and the influence, support, and nurturing that their mothers had provided. The events influenced Jenny and Claire deeply in ways that they mostly used for good, but there were times when the loss was felt acutely and it was a priceless treasure to have someone who could honestly understand. All of this was a delicate and wonderful balancing act that drew them together.

The Murray and Fraser children would play side by side for endless hours. Inside the house, outside in the yard, they loved the companionship that cousins offered and hated to be parted when the time ended. This lovely day had been no different from the other times they’d parted. It was quite a long drive home with wee Frasers though, so home they went.

As with all car rides bearing small children, there were the multiple stops. They had those planned into their route by this point. A few had been discovered when Claire had been pregnant with Faith. They’d become better established stopping places when they’d driven Faith to meet her cousins for the first time as Claire had insisted they stop so she could nurse the tiny infant. Then, when they added Bree to the mix and Faith had been potty trained, they’d needed _every_ , single possible stop on the way.

For quite some time, both small Frasers had been napping as their da drove the family back to their own home. Claire’s fingers ghosted over her husband’s thigh and she spoke in soft tones to him as he drove. The moment was a brief respite in a day of chaos, lovely though the day may have been. Driving past the exit for stop number one, “ice cream stop,” their conversation took a new direction.

“You know that you’ll need to find another stop for ice cream, yes? Since we’ve passed this one? Brianna’s inner GPS senses the presence of sugar or lack thereof and she’ll want her normal routine restored,” Claire joked, glancing sideways as Jamie continued down the highway.

“Aye, but maybe we can get a wee bit closer to home before stopping.”

It seemed like a reasonable thing to hope for considering the girls were in that coma-like state toddlers fall into where they wouldn’t be woken up if a nuclear war began. Bree’s cherubic cheeks were sweaty and one was smashed into the side of her car seat where she had slumped. A few red curls were stuck to her forehead and her lips made soft smacking noises with each exhalation of breath. Somehow, Faith had drawn her knees up and she slept contained in her seat, completely still and completely silent. She looked like a china doll, porcelain skin with a light dusting of freckles, her summer dress spread in a perfect fan across her bent legs.

Two more of their traditional rest stops passed before they decided to halt the proceedings and take a break anyway.

“We should probably wake them or else we’ll all be awake late tonight,” Claire murmured reluctantly.

“Let’s take the exit here,” he waved a hand at the road, “and get ice cream. ‘Twill make the wakin’ easier, aye?” He exited the highway with a turn signal and pulled in to the first place promising the cold, sweet treat.

They got out of the car, stretching stiffened limbs as they did so, then turned to get their daughter from their peaceful slumber. Jamie reached in the back seat and skillfully extricated a still-slumbering Faith with Claire assisted a persistently independent, though decidedly unstable, Bree out of the car.

By the time they crossed the parking lot Brianna was completely awake and alert. Faith’s eyes were wide but she was quietly clinging to Jamie’s neck. Claire pulled open the door and Bree scampered in. That’s when the chaos began.

Behind her, Claire heard an ear-splitting shriek. She pivoted, immediately prepared to handle an emergency situation, and saw only her husband and daughter. Faith was screaming bloody murder and attempting to grasp the doorway though, when Jamie backed out of the building, her screams reached an even higher pitch.

Brianna stood by, uncharacteristically placid, clutching the hem of Claire’s skirt with one hand with the thumb of her other hand  in her mouth, watching the drama unfold.

Jamie reentered the building and knelt to set Faith down and look at her. She was still crying and she stomped her feet as soon as they hit the ground making her voice rise and fall each time her feet struck.

“Faith, lass. Look at Da,” Jamie spoke prompting more unrestrained tears and sobbing. “Tell Da what’s amiss then. Use yer words,” he encouraged, using the familiar phrase.

Claire shot him a half-smile of encouragement as that was all she had to offer at the moment. She was completely gob-smacked. This was not something they’d _ever_ seen Faith do.

All of a sudden their oldest threw herself, bony limbs and all, onto the dirty tile floor of the fast food joint causing Claire to flinch in response. She and Jamie both cringed as Faith writhed on the grimy surface while screaming utter nonsense at the top of her lungs. It was certain. Their angel was demon-possessed. Amidst the nonsensical shrieks Claire caught “Maggie,” as well as “playing” and possibly, but not definitely, “ice cream.”

Jamie continued to try everything. Sternness. “Faith, if ye dinna stop, ye’ll have no ice cream. Ye ken?” Tenderness. “There, lass. Yer mam and da are right her wi’ ye and there’s nae need to cry.” Bribery. “Ye can have the big ice cream if ye stop right this moment, Faith. Ready?” Then he turned her over to his wife.

“ _I_ don’t know what to do either,” she hissed. “Usually with Bree we just butt heads until she does something terrible like shove peas up her nose and we take her to Joe or Murtagh!” She flapped her hands and curls began to spring lose from her pony tail, indicating her increasing level of distress. “Faith has _never_ done this though.” Then, without even waiting for a response, she abruptly scooped a screaming, writhing Faith in her arms and exited the building leaving Jamie and Bree in her wake.

Jamie and Bree ordered their snacks and waited in the line, all the while without Faith and Claire. They carried his cone, Claire’s milkshake, and two small to-go cups, each containing half a shake, for the girls back to their car where they found the two missing members of the Fraser family. Faith, her face still red and tear-streaked, sat strapped in her seat sleeping once more. Claire sat in the front seat, her face red as well.

Jamie buckled in Bree, handed her a cup, and hopped in next to his wife. “Well?” he inquired.

“Well,” she said. “I wrapped her into Bree’s snuggly blanket and just held her tight and talked until she listened. She kept telling me that she was so tired and I explained how we don’t get to throw fits just because we’re tired and then,” she rambled on, “I told her that little girls who do that don’t get treats so she said sorry, got into her seat, and fell asleep,” she shrugged.

“Oh aye?” he raised his eyebrows.

“I don’t even know what else to say, Jamie.” She shrugged. “Except that I need the extra milkshake after dealing with that.”

He handed it over without another word.

 

 

 

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